Oliver Woo'ed
by blasphemous merlin
Summary: Oliver Wood is gifted with prodigious intelligence, and a rather charming scottish accent. Not to mention his firm-as-a-quaffle bottom. But he can't seem to get a girl, so his loyal team tries to lend a hand. Complete mayhem? Obviously. T for later on
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: all characters in this belong to JKR, if they do not appear in the books/are not listed as characters, then they are just characters I threw in for the sake of the plot. If you liked it, please let me know!**

-o0o-

"You've put your support in the right team!" shrieks a woman, while the man beside her nods so furiously his glasses slip off his face.

For the first time in his life, Oliver Wood looks a little ashamed of his Quidditch loving family. Only a little. But it's certainly enough for Fred and George Weasley to pick up on, and saunter over to him.

"Olly!"

"_Jolly_ Olly!"

"Jolly Olly and his_ brolly_!"

"Jolly Olly with his brolly in a _trolley_-"

"Alright! Shut your big gobs!"  
Oliver, truly restraining himself from using all the words he'd learned from Peeves, scowls. He saw a pretty Hufflepuff prefect nearby and only hoped she hadn't heard it.

"Is there something you niffler brains want?" he asked, shooting glances to his left; his mother and father are shaking hands with anyone wearing the Puddlemere United colours, regardless of whether they know what Quidditch actually is. The muggles look downright terrified.

The twins grin at Mr and Mrs Wood, who wave back enthusiastically making their way over to the twins and their son.

"Oh, Merlin! _Move!_ I mean it," says Oliver, looking nothing short of desperate, the twins shoot him curious glances. "They'll want to give me the same lecture they do everyday…_Oliver, you must motivate yourself. Think of the Puddlemere boys and how wonderfully muscley they are!_"

The twin wanted to stop him talking so that they could maybe get out of his iron grip, but Oliver has them in a headlock and continues his speech while dragging them towards the wall on their heels.

"_Think of how they train in all weathers, and don't stop for hours,"_ says Oliver in a low-pitched voice, presumably a badly garbled imitation of his father's voice. _"It's why all the best Quidditch players have girlfriends."_

At this point Fred and George are unsure how to react- they can either laugh, cringe, or wrestle Oliver back to his parents to hear this speech. But Oliver's many years of Quidditch have resulted in an iron grip tight enough to rival that of McGonagal's-

"Oliver, you're choking us!" says Fred, turning an unsightly shade of red as Oliver continues to drag the boys, talking in alternately high pitched shrieks like his mother and low pitched grunting like his father's. They bypass a cluster of gorgeous muggle girls, and as one of them raises her pretty hazel eyes she is confronted by the image of a tall burly brunette boy, holding the heads of red haired twins in the crook of his armpits while having a conversation with himself in changing squeaks and squorks. Oliver find nothing wrong with this, but the twins grumble a bit as the gaggle of girls burst into laughter.  
"Oh Godric, look at Fred and George! Poor darlings, have Oliver's flabby biceps been suffocating you?" said Angelina Johnson, grinning ear to ear. Oliver glared at her momentarily, but was glad to see that both her and Alicia Spinnet were wearing their Quidditch robes.  
"Ladies, good summer?" croaked Fred from under Oliver's arms.  
"Splendid, thanks for asking- er, Oliver…If you don't let go of them, we've lost our beaters…" said Alicia, pointing at George who had been flapping his arms about in attempt to draw attention to his plight.  
"Sorry, Weasleys."  
Once he had released them, they had noisily gasped air while clutching their throats; Angelina and Alicia giggled. The twins were as red as their hair.  
"So, Aaaaan-geeeel-eeee-naahhhh…" said George, striding over to her and slinking an arm over her shoulder. "What's this I hear about _you_ and that Ravenclaw…what was his name, Freddie?"  
Fred had popped up on her other side, and both were wearing mischevious grins.  
"Ooh, it was something like…Buggins? No! Bibblewanger!"  
"No, I do believe it was…ahh, Bartholomews, yes?"  
Oliver looked round at her questioningly, and then gasped. Knowing on instinct what he would say, Angelina flipped her hair over her shoulder and said, cool as a cucumber, "He's not in the Ravenclaw Quidditch team, Wood. He's not out to ruin our team."  
Oliver sighed with relief, but his eyebrows raised anyway.  
"And _when _did this happen, exactly?" he asked, feeling that familiar big brotherly urge to smack this 'Buggins' boy round the head.  
"Summer!" said Alicia, "right after he decided to Floo right into her house," both her and the twins laughed loudly.  
"Huh? What's so funny about that?"  
"Because my dad is a muggle. My house doesn't have a fireplace to Floo into. He nearly blew the house apart-" she turned sharply to Lee Jordan, who had now joined them, "And _yes_, Lee. That is the _only_ thing that he _blew apart._"  
"Took the words right out of my mouth, Angie." Said Lee with a wink.  
3 years with these immature idiots had made her a mind reader.  
"Shall we go through the wall then?"  
"Might as well," Oliver, ever the leader, insists they go through following the formation he had taught them. The twins grumble that it makes them look like grounded geese.  
"We have to go find our mum anyway, we'll catch you in a bit."  
"Mummy's boys!" calls Angelina after them.  
"We might even find Buggins on the way!" they call back.

"No need to tease them Angie- Oh, Merlin's bum fuzz- move quickly! My parents are coming over here- Alicia, go! Go!"

Too late, they've spotted the little team.

"Oliver! Who are these people? Are they your friends? Where is Percy, I've always liked him!" says his father, he towers over Lee Jordan, who muttered a quick 'Hello' and flounced off in search of the twins, presumably to warn them that their brother Percy has a fan.

"Ooh! A girl!" says Oliver's mum, looking at Angelina and then Alicia, "_Two_ girls! I told you that quidditch would pay off! Look, look at them, Darren!" she says shaking her husband's arm. "They're gorgeous! Oh! Oliver finally gets to lose his-"

Before the girls could say more than 'Quidditch' Oliver had pushed them through the barrier, onto platform 9 ¾ . He blushed so furiously, you could have mistaken him for a tomato.

"Sorry about that," he said gruffly, clearing his throat. "My parents are, ahh, keen that I follow the life of a professional Quidditch player…that includes the…erm, sex life and-" he trailed off uncomfortably. Angelina looked at Alicia. Alicia looked at Angelina. Both of them looked at Oliver. All three of them burst out laughing.

"Maybe we should help you get a girlfriend then?" Joked Lee, popping up unnoticed.

"Good Godric, man. Why must you show up from nowhere?"

"If people noticed me, then they'd notice this-" he gestured to a large trunk he had, it was rattling.

"Ooh, go on Lee, give us a look!" said Alicia, eagerly. Lee opened the lid a little and something poked out a hairy leg. Oliver let out a girlish skriek.

"Forget that last idea, we should find you a boyfriend instead."

Oliver punched him in the arm, and Lee threateningly opened the lid of the trunk again.

"Alright, you lot get on the train. I'm going to go and say bye to my parents."  
As Oliver sauntered off, Lee rounded on the girls.

"He's in fifth year now, right?" They both nodded.

"And still no girlfriend?" They shook their heads.

"I think it's time we took matters into our own hands, don't you?"

"What?" Asked Alicia, Angelina grinned, at Lee.

"Like _you're_ of any use, you can't even get a girl yourself," she teased.

"No, no, my dear Johnson. It's just _you_ I can't seem to get,"

"And for good reason…" she muttered under her breath, but threw her arm around his shoulders. "What's the plan, then? How do we find Oliver a woman that will match his standards _and_ will still want to go out with him?"

"Better wait for the twins, while we attempt to figure that out." Said Alicia, knowing those two could think a suitable method for trapping- no, _luring_ a young beauty in to be Oliver's girlfriend.

"I'll go find them, it's been ages since I've seen little Ginny, anyway." Said Angelina, she waved them off.

Alicia and Lee boarded the train when Oliver came back, looking thoroughly disgruntled.

"What crawled up your quidditch robes and bit you?" asked Alicia. Lee looked at her flatly for the phrase, to which she grinned and shrugged. "I thought it described his mood perfectly." They found an empty compartment and plunked down into the seats.

"Oh nothing, if you don't count that my mother has just asked Primrose Parkinson to go out with me!" he raged. Lee's face contorted as he tried his hardest not to laugh. Alicia looked horrified. "She had Puddlemere colours on, and just _decided_ it would be a good idea to proclaim my love for her!"

"Urgh! You corrected her, right? Told her that nasty snake like _her_ wasn't suited to a Gryffindor?" she asked anxiously.

"Oh, of course I did. But not before Parkinson said _yes! _All I said was 'you've got a face like a pug, and I'd rather not snog you'… Now her gang of Slytherin gargoyles is after me."

"Merlin's beard," said Lee, "We really _do_ need to get you a girlfriend to protect you. Lest the Slytherinettes rape you in your sleep and-"

"What in the name of Helga Hufflepuff are you lot on about? Sleep rape? Slytherins?" asked Fred looking disgusted.

"If this is an idea for a prank, Lee, I'd rather not take part." Said George, looking equally sickened at the thought.

"No, we need a great prank to get revenge, on the Slytherins," explained Alicia, "_In case_ they sleep rape Oliver."  
Still looking mightily confused, the twins nodded. "We keep spare plans for occasions just like these." Said George, tapping his nose and grinning.

"Yeah, don't you worry, Woody boy. We've got your back." Agreed Fred.

"Nevermind that now though, guess who we saw!"

"Angelina's new boyfriend? I think we've all caught a glimpse of him now." Said Lee pointing to where Angelina and said boyfriend were enthusiastically kissing outside their compartment.

"Ew, no… we've just met Harry Potter." Chorused the twins.  
The whole group looked up sharply. Lee looked up so quickly his dreadlocks smacked Oliver on the face.

"Argh! You tit, I think you've blinded me!"

"Blinded by Lee's hair. Wonderful way to start the year, Wood."

"But on to more important matters than Lee's hair blinding the captain…Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, is sitting with our ickle Ronnie."

"Why is that important?" asked Alicia, completely disregarding Oliver, lying across two seats in a foetal position and clutching his eye.

"The last thing I saw with this eye was Fred's bottom." He said in a feeble voice.

"Shut it," she smacked him sharply on the head. "Harry Potter and your baby brother. What of it?"

"Don't you see? It guarantees he's going to be in Gryffindor." Explained George.

"Who, Ron or Potter?"

"Both?"

"Both." Confirmed Fred. "We Weasleys are known Gryffindor spotters. We have the Gryffindor Touch." To prove his point he poked Oliver, who was still in his foetal position. Oliver sat up, and blinked.

"I'm healed!" he announced, "I can seeeee!" he looked so amazed, despite the fact that his eye was still bloodshot and merely looked as though he'd been crying.

Alicia and Lee gasped, looking from Fred and George to Oliver.

Angelina had joined them now, looking rather ruffled and had a grin on her face.

"Ahh, Angie. Looks like you need the Gryffindor Touch too." Said Fred, reaching a hand out to her to give her a poke.

"She's been touched enough for one day, Freddie." Joked George. This earned him a flick to the head from Angelina and her sharp nails.

"I heard something about 'Harry Potter' and 'seeing Fred's bottom' in here," she said, sitting down beside Alicia. "I sincerely hope you haven't scarred that boy anymore than he already is, Freddiekins."

"Oi! My bottom is a glorious thing to behold! It also has the Gryffindor Touch, and so would heal Potter's-"

"Moving on!" said Oliver, already feeling sorry for Potter, who he hoped would not be subjected to Fred's bottom or the Weasley Touch, as both things sounded rather…disturbing.

"Err, moving on from that. Have you two thought of any plans? Regarding what I mentioned earlier?" asked Angelina with a significant look around the room, the twins remembered vaguely about getting Oliver a girlfriend. They shook their heads.

"Don't worry, we have all year." Said Lee, getting comfortable.  
Oliver didn't want to hear it. He wanted to discuss winning the Quidditch cup. He doubted that any of their pranks were at all important.  
Oh, if only they knew the damage that would be caused in the course of the year….


	2. Chapter 2

_longer chapter this time, and i hope you like it. i wanted to get Harry and the quidditch team as involved as possible in this, as well as people from Oliver's year at Hogwarts. the next chapter will be very dramatic, (and hopefully hilarious!)  
__i don't own the characters, they belong to J.K.R.  
_x

"Oi, Fred and George. Wake up."

"I'm awake. Your elephantine snores kept me awake the whole night."

"Yeah. You really should get your schnozzle looked at, Lee. You snored loud enough for me to think Hagrid was having a sneezing fit in here."

"Shut up, George. Just get up and get dressed."

George grumbled something about Hagrid's colossal sneezes being quieter than Lee's snoring, and tumbled out of bed. Then he tumbled on to Fred's bed, and punched Fred until he too got up.

"You two can't afford to oversleep for the first Quidditch practice of the year!" said Lee, and Fred and George brightened. They had been very right about Harry Potter being made a Gryffindor, and had won the bet with Oliver, Lee and Angelina. Alicia was the only one to not take part in the betting, as she knew she'd lose the money. In response Fred and George had poked her constantly to remind her_ 'of the Power of the Gryffindor Touch.'_

Now was the very first practice with their newest, and youngest seeker; Potter himself. They'd initially decided to go easy on him, considering his past and sob story or whatever it was everyone said about him. But when they'd discovered _how_ he'd gotten into the team, they decided he had a lot of prankster quality about him, and were now teasing him just as they did Ron. Funnily enough, Harry didn't seem to mind. He seemed perfectly at ease with their banter. The only one who'd made a fuss was Angelina. She had some form of weird broody, protective, mother-hen phase that she snapped into when she felt sorry for someone. When Oliver had told her that a first year had made the team, she hadn't looked at all bothered, not even a little bit impressed.  
However when Oliver told her it was Harry Potter, who had been orphaned and scarred by You-Know-Who, Angelina had a fit.

"Absolutely not, Wood. That poor baby, don't you realise how much pressure he's already under? You're being ridiculous. No." she sounded exactly like the twins' Mum.

Oliver had wheedled and whined until he had to use his secret weapon; he argued that Gryffindor hadn't won in years, and that he just wanted to make his parents and McGonagal proud of him and his team. She had to cave in after that, but not before threatening Oliver with _"If anything happens to that boy, Oliver Wood, I'll jinx that adorable little bottom of yours into a quaffle. Then you'll never play quidditch again."_

Ignoring the 'adorable little bottom' bit, Oliver seemed pleased that he could finally have the team he wanted. Though the whole of Hogwarts seemed to scoff at the idea of Harry being a better seeker than Charlie Weasley, who had once caught the snitch with his ear and won the game. Sure, he had deafened himself for a week because of it, but there wasn't a Gryffindor alive who hadn't heard of Charlie Weasley's lucky ear trumpet.

"Alright, then. Drag out the quaffles, and lets get started!" said Wood, looking at his team eagerly. For once, he felt like they were on the same page as him; it was very early on a Saturday morning and usually they were grumbling but today they were ecstatic. The Cleansweeps were doing their job well, as were the players sitting atop them. Angelina and Alicia had returned to the team after their brilliant try-outs. A second year called Katie Bell had earned pride of place on the team after amazing everyone as she flew around the pitch and outstripped the competition. The twins also had an excellent try-out, and had finished it by chasing the frightened bludgers around the pitch while madly brandishing their beaters bats, rather than let the bludgers come flying at them. Everyone else who had tried out for beaters had been unable to get the bludgers to work afterwards.  
"Poor little bludgers are recovering from the Weasley Touch." explained Fred.

Oliver himself had allowed all of the people who tried out to test their luck against him, and no-one apart from his three chasers and a bludger whacked by the twins made it into the goals past him. And as for Harry… he might not have an Ear-Trumpet Of Glory to show his skill, but the boy could certainly fly. McGonagal hadn't been lying when she said he was a natural. His team was perfect, and Oliver was absolutely elated. He felt like he'd been struck with a levitating charm and it was hoisting him up happily by the ears and into the air and straight to the Quidditch Cup…

"Oliver, why on earth are you wiggling your ears like that?" asked Katie, peering at him.

"Er, nevermind. Have the balls been brought out?" he asked, "And, please twins, don't bring any of _yours'_ out." He added sternly, for he knew the twins had some form of immature remark. No, he'd misjudged them. They weren't about to make a dirty comment; they were too busy laughing at the word 'balls'.

"Immature gits," he sighed, "alright! We have a maximum of one hour to properly practice-"

The team let out a cheer. Short practices usually meant Oliver was feeling generous.

"-So for the first few hours, we're doing drills and practicing our formations."

The whole group groaned, apart from Harry who still had much to learn about Oliver's training regimes.

The twins were assigned to a sort of game for young Harry, as he was still too much a novice when it came to the rough and tumble action of quidditch. The twins were asked to fly a long distance from each other and whack a bludger between them. Harry, who had been stationed in the middle of the distance between them, had to fly as fast as he could to catch the bludger before it escaped.

"So, it's a bit like, piggy-in-the-middle…on brooms?" asked Harry.

"Eh? Piggy in the middle of what?"

Angelina had been right to feel sorry for Harry, he kept comparing quidditch to muggle games on brooms. Once Oliver had made sure Harry and the twins had got the game right and were working away, he turned to his chasers. Angelina was watching Harry like a hawk, making sure those mad twins and their beaters bats weren't pummelling him. If they so much as _tried_ to use this 'Weasley Touch' on him she would-

"He'll be fine, Angie," he said reassuringly, cutting into her train of murderous thoughts. She didn't look like she heard him. Her head had snapped up rather sharply when George yelled 'WATCH OUT, POTTER!'

They all looked round to see Harry hanging off the end of his broom, mercifully a few inches away from safe ground where the bludger had been whacked and nearly buried into the soil.

"It's okay, I've got it!" he yelled back. He hopped back on the broom and zoomed off, carrying the slightly smoking bludger under his arm.

"See? He's okay. He's a natural."

Oliver wanted the chasers to practice with each other- they would fly around the pitch at top speed and pass the quaffle between them all the while. It was difficult- a lesser player would have dropped the quaffle or broken formation, but his three chasers were brilliant in that they worked so well together. Angelina took the lead, followed by Alicia who held them together as a group and Katie, who was a fast flier and very enthusiastic about throwing the ball fast to Angelina and Alicia. It was making Oliver just a little bit dizzy watching them.

Even Harry and the twins stopped their exercises to watch.

"They look like a conga line on brooms." Commented Harry. The twins just shook their heads.

When practice was over, the fun bit came. The bit that Oliver knew the whole team liked, because whatever pent up anger or frustration they had, they could really just let it all go. So, with the aid of McGonagal and Flitwick's spell, he charmed the goal posts so that they blocked goals on their own. They would bend out of the way of on-coming quaffles, they would swipe the quaffles away, and they would even try to knock the players off their brooms. It was magnificent fun. The whole team was gathered around the goals like a swarm of angry bees and they were all holding quaffles and pelting the goal posts, trying hard to score goals. Amid the screaming and yelling and swearing, Oliver could plainly hear Harry shouting: "THIS IS LIKE DODGEBALL ON A BROOM!"

Once the whole team was back in the castle, enjoying their weekend after a fantastic practice, Oliver had sat back to read his personal favourite book in the great hall. He had a large glass of pumpkin juice and an equally large platter of crisps in front of him, and was chuckling away at 'More Bludger Than Broom: Legendary Quidditch Blunders'.

He felt wonderful about the upcoming matches and closed his book to reminisce about his best saves during matches. There would be no competition from the other teams; the Hufflepuffs had Diggory, Ravenclaws had Chang, but the Gryffindors had Potter. The Slytherin seeker was so useless his name had slipped Oliver's mind already.

He'd forgotten about his troubles with the Slytherins; Primrose Parkinson and her cronies were glaring at him from across the hall. One of the motioned pouring something into a cup and Oliver looked in horror at his glass of pumpkin juice. Nope, nothing in there. No love potion, nothing to make him ugly, or stupid or…

So they were just musing about what to do to him. He shuddered, '_I'll take anything but the sleep rape'_ he thought. He had to get himself a girlfriend and fast, just so the Slytherinettes couldn't do anything. And he couldn't tell anyone about it; knowing his friends, they'd end up embarrassing him for life.

That's when she walked by. With her curling hair, and earthy scent and pretty grey eyes.

"Oi, Penelope! C'mere a second."

She walked back from the Ravenclaw table and came over to him, looking a bit confused.

"Yes, Oliver?"

"You're a Prefect," he began, "a much less pompous one than Percy, too. Think you could keep an eye on the Slytherins? I think they're planning something."

She nodded, looking a little wary. She was used to fights with the Slytherins, and it came as no shock that Oliver was suspicious of them.

"Primrose wouldn't dare spring anything on you, it would just make her look more bitter about getting rejected." Explained Penelope.

"Oh, you heard about that?" asked Oliver with a grimace. Honestly, how could all of Hogwarts just _know_ about this? Were his parents sending everyone Owls telling them? They probably were. Oliver was about to restart his high pitched imitation of his mother when Penelope laughed.

"Who hasn't?" she replied, echoing his thoughts, "Don't worry though, if she tries anything, I'll stop it."

"Thanks, Penny. And please don't tell Percy, he'll just think I'm-"

"Percy wouldn't think less of you as a captain for not being able to handle a few Slytherins. Actually, I think he'd be glad of the opportunity to show off his authority." She said with a laugh. She turned on her heels and left Oliver sitting there. She was very pretty, he'd never noticed. And she was perfectly pleasant. Maybe she could make a good girlfriend…?

"How come Penelope was here, just now?" Oliver snapped out of his thoughts as Percy Weasley came into focus. Not wishing to tell Percy about the Slytherins, he took a bite of his crisps and said as nonchalantly as possible-

"Oh, she asked how the team is getting on. Just a little chit chat, is all."

Percy seemed highly miffed by this. After five years of knowing this pompous git, Oliver knew he was a little jealous. Nah, it wasn't the I've-known-him-five-years thing, it was the usual Weasley sign of annoyance. His ears had turned red.

"She said something about you, too." Said Oliver, being deliberately vague.

Percy perked up immediately.

"Really? What'd she say?"

Oliver sighed, looks like he'd have to find someone else. No matter how much he wanted to get the Slytherins off his back so he could focus on the team, he wouldn't steal his friend's girl.

He let his thoughts go back to the training session, when yet another voice doused him.

"Oi, quaffle bum," she said, "bad news. The twins are in detention all week, so they won't be there for practice." Angelina was addressing him.

"WHAT! What did they do?" he spat out.

"They were firing Infatuation Charms in the corridors," Angelina looked rather dubious as she said this. "and Filch _accidentally_ got hit. He's currently proposing to a broom"

"They'd have wonderful babies, I'm sure." Said Oliver sarcastically, still feeling annoyed with the twins.

"It was like love at first sight," said Angelina laughing, "_on a broom!_". Her Harry impression was spot on, even Oliver had to laugh.

"Why were they even using Infatuation Charms in the first place?" said Percy weakly, he was rubbing his temples and breathing out all the stress.

"No reason…" she muttered, stuffed her hands into her robe pockets and walked away.

Oliver did not like the twinkle in her eye; he'd seen that look on the twins and Lee and now they'd somehow involved Angelina in whatever they were planning.

"Why is everyone out to get me?" he mumbled, "Why is everyone out to get me, _on a broom_?"


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: First of all; I am so, so sorry for the long wait. I truly am. I had exams to revise for and finish, at they're big exams, so I couldn't bring myself to procrastinate from revising. Since summer started I've been swamped with getting ready for university too, so while I didn't have time to update, I did write out the plot for this story so I can now regularly update. This chapter gets more into the plot, and I hope you like it- I put effort into involving more characters (and I couldn't resist mentioning my other fandoms too- ehehehe). If you liked it, please leave a review- every comment and criticism is important to me. Thanks for waiting, guys! - Lily.

-o0o-

The first Gryffindor match had been a success, aside from Harry nearly being knocked off his broom. Compared to the injuries the other players received, Harry's had seemed the least painful. But, true to her word, Angelina Johnson jinxed Oliver's bottom into a quaffle shape. McGonagal was in such high spirits she very cheerfully transfigured it back to normal, and nearly danced away.

"What in the name of Gryffindor is wrong with Minnie?" asked Katie, having just witnessed McGonagal patting Filch's head as she skipped past him. "She seems…er, delighted about something."

"I don't know about you, but it may have been the fact that we haven't had a win like that in years?" said Fred, scratching his head in mock confusion.

"Or maybe because someone set fire to Snape?" added George, also looking confused and scratching Fred's head.

"Possibly both? Perhaps Dumbledore proposed to her or something." Suggested Katie, to which the twins both cackled.

"I doubt it, Katie. I don't think that's something our dear old Dumblebum would do." Fred waggled his eyebrows.

"Oh? And how would you two know?"

"We have our sources." George tapped his pocket as surreptitiously as possible, because Filch came ambling past, walking stiffly with one leg and did not quite meet the eyes of the students. Which was a surprise.

"Why is he walking like that?"

"Why is he holding Mrs Norris over his… Oh, good Godric."

"Does he have a…?"

They all stared in horror after Filch, who was indeed hobbling at an alarmingly fast speed with a cat covering his-

"Filch has a boner." Mumbled a voice behind them all. They all jumped and spun round to see who it was.

Oliver was standing there, looking aghast at the idea of Filch not being asexual.

"Nice observation, Woody boy." Said Katie, trying hard not to laugh at Oliver. Fred and George still looked confused and horrified.

"Yeah, nice deduction. However did you work that one out?" teased Fred.

"Ah, it was elementary my dear Watson-er, Wood." Replied George, pretending to take a puff out of an imaginary pipe. He started coughing at the fake smoke and suddenly real smoke began issuing out of his ears.

"Fred! Stop!" he ordered, but Fred wasn't sure what was happening; he began flailing around trying to prevent the smoke leaving his twin's ears. He put his hands over George's ears and instead the smoke began coming out of nose. Oliver and Katie looked around them for the source of the problem, and, on seeing two Slytherin students sniggering nearby, charged over to them. Oliver and Katie drew out their wands and the Slytherins scattered while the smoke continued to steam out of George's ears and nose.

"What's wrong with him?!" asked a frantic Fred, while George shook his head and sent smoke clouds into all their faces.

"Hospital wing, now."

-o0o-

Madam Pomfrey wasn't the least bit amused; the smoke billowing from George's ears and nose were driving her crazy, and as he couldn't talk, she couldn't ask him how he'd done it.

"Please, let me stay with him-" begged Fred, who was torn between wanting to stay and laugh at George and wanting to leave and get revenge on those Slytherins.

"No, get yourself to class, Mr Weasley. Rest assured your brother isn't _doomed_, it's only a minor charm."

"A charm? Are you sure it's not a jinx?" Fred looked at George's smoke shrouded face, "aren't charms supposed to be useful?"

"That's the point of them, yes," said madam Pomfrey with an air of extreme patience, "This is a particularly good charm for actors, as it makes your performance more believable."

"…Wharf?" George mumbled while holding a mouthful of smoke.

"It's a charm, that actors use. Its so they won't need to use their wands during a performance. They think of the prop they need and the charm conjures it."

Madam Pomfrey looked confused now, and looked between the twins.

"Why on earth would _you two_ need this charm? Why would you want to conjure smoke from your face?" she asked them, almost expecting them to announce that they wanted to be in a play.

The twins exchanged a surprised glance. What on earth could the Slytherins be doing now?

"Off you go Mr Weasley, your brother will join you shortly." And with that, she shooed Fred away.

As he walked, Fred thought over what could have happened. Sure, the Slytherins didn't like them very much, and they spent hours pranking each other mercilessly…but the Slytherins weren't such amateurs when it came to pranks. A dark thought passed his mind; this was the start of something bigger. Much bigger, but what?

Ever since Angelina had told them about muggle detectives from her muggle books, they'd been dying to try and solve a mystery. It had sounded childish even to them, but they couldn't resist. It was almost as though someone was granting their silly little wish.

"So?" piped a worried voice. It was Alicia.

"He's fine. Apparently he got hit with an _acting charm_, or so says Madam Pomfrey." Fred scratched his head, "But its very unlike those little snakes, isn't it? They were older than us, too, so you'd think their pranks would be a bit more…interesting?"

"An acting charm?" pondered Alicia, "Hmn, is that why smoke started blasting out of his ears? Because he was pretending to be Sherflop Holmes?"

"_Sherlock_ Holmes," sighed Fred, "and yes…I think so."

"This makes no sense," Alicia gasped suddenly, "what if they weren't aiming for George?"

"Oliver. Oliver was standing there, too."

-o0o-

Break time brought with it the revelation that such a thing as acting charms existed. And, within no time, a charms book had been snuck out of the library to better understand it. Oliver, the twins, Lee, Angelina and Alicia were gathered at one end of the Gryffindor table, poring over the thick volume that young Katie had brought them.

"This is N.E.W.T. level work." Commented Oliver, who had by now been told that the Slytherins may have been aiming for him. "They'd have to ask a teacher for the charm, it's not even written in the book."

"What teacher could possibly want to let a bunch of pupils wander off with an _acting charm_?"

They all pondered this for a moment, each one running through a list of Hogwarts' teachers in their heads.

"McGonagal?" suggested Katie.

"No," scoffed the group, "Not unless she could watch what it was being used for!"

"Snape?" pondered Angelina.

"Probably, since his darling Slytherins asked."

"No, the other teachers would be too suspicious…"

"What about…" Lee scanned the teacher's table. "Quirrell?"  
The group looked up to twitchy, mumbly Quirrell and how the Ravenclaws were doing their Defence Against the Dark Arts homework in his view; they weren't scared of them, but he didn't dare mess with them.  
The group reached a silent, simultaneous conclusion; The Slytherins had learned this charm from Quirrell, and had intended to use it to hurt Oliver.  
But exactly why they chose and acting charm, and exactly why they had to resort to bullying a teacher to learn it- that's what they would have to find out.


End file.
